


The fault is ours

by Khalehla



Category: Football RPF
Genre: "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone" is a horrible but very relatable cliché, Angst, Big bro Manu, But being heartsick makes your judgement clouded, German National Team, International Break, M/M, Mats is a good friend, Russia World Cup 2018, So much angst, accidental Mats/MAtS, implied Steno, implied/past Hömmels, poor bibs had no idea okay?, wow this escalated quickly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla/pseuds/Khalehla
Summary: The aftermath of the announcement takes Marc-André by surprise





	The fault is ours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafe/gifts), [meggiewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/gifts).



> For everyone who just wants a little bit of angst... here you go. 
> 
> Can be read as a sequel to [Uncharitable thoughts.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13442385/chapters/34287702)

For all his distraction with his own position in the national team, the one thing that Marc-André wasn't prepared for was this. Somehow, over the course of two tournaments, Marc has come to expect and accept that international breaks meant playing and competing with Bernd again, and contrary to popular belief, this wasn't something he was unhappy about. Yes, their relationship wasn't perfect, but they really had moved on from the toxic, spitting, rivalry they had in their long youth days, and Marc could confidently describe their relationship as a complementary competitiveness, highlighted by physical compatibility and the occasional (and sometimes scary) ability to understand each other without actually talking. Marc actually likes Bernd now, which is probably the natural outcome of trying to actually be - gasp! - mature about their rivalry. There is a lot to be said about how fun it is to poke at someone (mostly) good-naturedly without having to worry about them misinterpreting you, because hello, they were your mirror image. Yes, Marc likes spending time with the older, more mature, Bernd, and he could even admit that this is maybe a part of why he enjoyed international breaks. 

(Just not out loud, and definitely not to Bernd, because then that would defeat the whole "we don't actually hate each other but it's too awkward to admit we get along so we're going to just keep needling each other like we normally do until we figure it out" dynamic)

Which is why it hits him with the gentleness of a freight train when he finds out that Bernd is in fact _not_ going to Russia with the team, and it will be Kevin making up the last of the goalkeeper numbers instead. Marc has nothing personal against Kevin, but he'd been so convinced that it would be him and Bernd - just like it's _always_ been since they were _sixteen!_ \- that it blindsides him when all of a sudden it isn't. Even Kevin is surprised, which probably says the most about the decision considering the PSG keeper is the one with the most to gain from it.

Marc stands to the side awkwardly as Bernd says goodbye to the others, barely able to keep a straight face when Bernd shakes his hand, neither of them able to look each other in the eyes. It feels so wrong, and the wrongness of it all carries over into the next day, as he struggles to not be lost when he looks up all smug only to find that Bernd isn't there to roll his eyes at his shenanigans. Kevin, for all that he's slowly becoming a friend, is just too nice, doesn't push back at Marc's assholery, and Marc feels lost without someone there to remind him to be stronger/better/faster. Because that's what they were to each other, he and Bernd; among other things, they were each other's barometer, what they used to measure how good they were, and without Bernd...

Marc hates the feeling of being slightly off-centre, and on the third-day of looking up and not seeing Bernd's ~~cute, dimples that makes Marc wanna both lick them and annoyingly start poking them at the same time~~ challenging face, he finally gives in and admits quietly to Marco how strange it is, being without his biggest rival after 10 years of competing against him.

"It couldn't have been that much of a surprise; you're important to the team."

Marc frowns, because what did he have to do with it? "I wasn't exactly asked, you know."

Marco also frowns. "But surely you-" He stops abruptly, lips pinched in a line. "They would have taken you into account."

"Why would they do that?"

"Why _wouldn't_ they?"

"Just spell it out for me Marco. Please?" Marc sighs. "I honestly don't know what you're going on about."

"Well, you can't really blame them. What with the whole Manu thing, they're probably just trying to keep you happy." Marco looks almost apologetic as he says, "And after your little spat the other day, it looks like you guys are back at it again, so choosing Kevin instead of Bernd makes sense."

It takes Marc a good few seconds to process what Marco has said, and when understanding finally comes, he stares at Marco in confusion and a slowly, growing horror.

"Are you telling me, that the reason why Kevin is staying is because they think I didn't want Bernd to be here?" Marc asks in disbelief. "They think we were  _fighting_ _?"_

"Well, you did shove at each other," Marco reminds him.

"That's nothing! We push each other all the time; it doesn't mean anything!"

"How were they to know that though?"

"Because we've always been like that!" Marc says almost hysterically, standing up and waving his hands in the air. "They thought-! Jesus! They didn't choose him because of _that?_ _Why?_ What the _fuck,_ Marco!" 

"Hey man, you gotta calm done," Marco says, tugging at Marc's hands to make him sit back down. Marc plonks himself on the seat with a heavy thud, breath coming rapid at the thought that-. No, it couldn't be! How? Did management really think that he and Bernd were fighting again? That they still couldn't stand each other? Was Marco right, that they'd chosen to keep Kevin because they thought that Marc got along with Kevin better and they gave him that as some sort of consolation prize for losing the number one spot to Manuel again?

He thinks back on that day, and tries to see it from an outsiders point of view. He'd been simmering in anger, his conversation with Jogi already making him edgy. He'd had an idea that the pep talk from the coach would be a double edged sword, and with Andi handing out extra compliments like some sort of kindergarten teacher with firm opinions about praise-giving, Marc had known that his chance/hopes/dreams of becoming the first choice keeper were slowly going down the drain the better and more confident Manuel got. So he'd been in a shitty mood, and as usual, he'd taken it out on Bernd; not a lot, but enough that Bernd pushed back as expected, because Bernd never took shit from Marc. It was a normal interaction between them, and afterwards, when he'd grudgingly apologised and Bernd had accepted the apology by telling him to _stop being an asshole, idiot, it's only the first week_ , the whole incident had slipped his mind, because it wasn't a big deal. Or so he thought. But apparently to everyone else, it was. And Marc can't accept that. There was just no way it could his fault that Bernd wasn't there. If his little tantrum at the beginning of camp was the reason why Bernd went home, he wouldn't even stop Bernd from punching him in the face and never forgiving him; he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Marco is rubbing his back when Marc gathers enough courage to ask, "It isn't really my fault, is it?"

"You know there's usually at least two people in an argument, right? I'd hardly say it's just your fault."

Marc shakes his head. "No. No that was my fault. I. I was.. shitty, and annoying him, and you know Bernd, he doesn't take shit from me. But we weren't fighting. Not like before. It's. It really is different now. We're not like that anymore."

Marco is all sympathy when he says, "Well I don't know if it's true, they haven't actually said anything; it's all just gossip, right now."

"But it could be," Marc says miserably.

"I'm sorry," Marco says, giving him a quick hug. "I didn't know you'd be really affected by this. I mean, I know you said you guys were different, I just didn't realise you wanted him around considering your history."

"I always want him around," Marc admits softly. "And now he's not, and it's probably my fault."

"I'm sorry," Marco says simply, and Marc is sorry, too.

The next couple of days are all the worse knowing what he knows now, and it's not surprising that some of his other friends start giving him worrying looks. Mats and Thomas are constantly trying to get him to join in their antics in an effort to cheer him up, and even Julian Brandt - who Marc was pretty sure actually hated him on Bernd's behalf - had asked him once if he was okay. He's not okay, and his brooding means that he's usually going on solo walks around the resort to try and get out of his own head. It helps, even just a little.

On one of his rambles he walks around the corner to find a serious looking Mats having a whispered conversation into his phone. In Italian, it seems; it's not hard to guess who Mats is talking to. Marc waves when Mats notices him, but heads off in the other direction to give his friend some privacy. Half an hour later, when he's sitting in the games room with some of the others, declining Niklas' and Basti's invitation to double up for pool, Mats finally joins him, sinking into the adjacent chair.

"Everything okay?" Marc asks, because Mats is oozing misery despite the fact that Marc was pretty sure he was talking to Benedikt.

Mats just shakes his head, a rueful smile on his face. "Yeah, he's enjoying his holiday at least." 

There's not really much he can say to that. "I'm sorry."

Mats rubs at his face vigorously. "It's okay, it's. She's good for him. I'm glad he's taking a break; it hasn't been an easy season."

Marc nods, and because he himself is miserable and misery loves company, he rather unwisely asks, "Wanna get drunk?" 

Mats gives him a startled look, then stands up. "Sure, why the fuck not? We've got tomorrow off anyway."

It's a really, really bad idea, made worse by the fact that they're both pretty heartbroken enough to just want to forget, even if it's for one night. They fuck, and it's honest to God one of the worst experiences of Marc's life. He can't even blame Mats for it. They're both heartsick and disappointed and less than sober, and neither are thinking straight, but at least Mats was _trying_. Marc, after a lacklustre and forgettable orgasm, takes two seconds to come to grips with what's happened, then rolls onto his side and _cries_. At his own stupidity, for potentially damaging his relationship with a good friend, he doesn't know; but it's the first time he's actually felt anything in the past few days and he can't seem to stop.

At first Mats seems confused, blinking at him while Marc tries to get his sobbing under control, but then realisation kicks in and Mats sighs, pushing himself off the bed to put some pants on and go to the bathroom. When Marc hears the taps running, he somehow manages to swallow the last of his sobs and sits up, one arm around his waist as he swipes at his eyes with other arm, trying to figure out how everything just got so _wrong_.

(His stupid, treacherous heart and stupid, confused body are telling him that even at their angriest, sex was always good between him and B-

He forcefully stops that thought before it makes everything worse)

He's dressed in his jeans and is tugging his shirt back on when Mats comes out, looking much too sober for someone who just had drunk sex, handing Marc a glass of water.

Marc drinks dutifully, but can't look Mats in the eyes. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry," he mumbles, because what else can he do but apologise?

Mats takes a seat next to him on the bed, but wisely leaves a foot between them. "Eh, wasn't your fault. Drunk sex is always a bad idea, especially if you're crying over someone else."

It's true, but Marc just feels worse now. "I'm still sorry. For... this. And for Bene too. I know you miss him. I think we all do."

"You get over it. Eventually. No choice really." Mats gives Marc a bitter, heartbroken smile. "In our world, you take what you can get when you've got it, because nothing lasts forever."

If Mats was trying to make Marc feel better, it has the opposite effect, because now all he can think of is how he took for granted that Bernd would be there forever, and now that Bernd's been taken away from him, he'll probably never have a chance to really fix what they had and to turn it into something good. Marc swallows down the bile (probably alcohol) trying to come up his throat, takes a shaky breath, then stands. He's wobbly, but he's pretty sure he can make it back to his room without either throwing up in the corridor or falling over. Mats doesn't stop him, but Marc knows enough to whisper "thank you" before slipping out of his friend's room and heading towards his own.

Marc-André avoids Mats the next couple of days; despite the fact that Mats had seemed to have gotten over any awkwardness pretty quickly, Marc still can't look his friend in the face, still racked with guilt and a lingering grief. Luckily for him, personal problems had never affected his professionalism, but training is joyless and monotonous, and Manuel starts given him concerned looks every few hours. Marc starts avoiding Manuel too outside of training, because he's still not 100% over being bumped down - yet again - to #2 despite everything he's done to justify being #1, and the last thing he wants to do is have a heart-to-heart with his captain.

Manuel, however, seems to not have gotten the memo. At the end of practice the next day, Manuel puts a hand on Marc's shoulder as they pack up, waving at Kevin to go ahead and asking Marc to stay back so they can chat. They stand there awkwardly until the tension gets unbearable, and Marc blurts out "sorry" for lack of anything better to say.

Manuel looks surprised and confused, then understanding and sympathetic. "Look, I don't pretend to know exactly what's gotten you so down, and I'm sure I'm the last person you want to be talking to about it, so tell me if it's none of my business, but I get the feeling that the gossip that you wanted Bernd gone isn't totally true?"

Marc looks away, not wanting to answer the question, despite knowing he has to. "Mats told you," he says instead, trying to deflect.

"Mats Hummels can be a loud mouth diva when he wants to be, but he would never break confidence over a secret."

"Then how...?"

"One of the side effects of being injured for so long and coming back after so much has changed, is that you notice everything," Manuel says, a soft smile on his lips. "I know what people were saying about you and Bernd, how you hated each other, but from what I could see in France, you were working things out and learning to get along. Or was I wrong?"

Marc shakes his head. No, Manuel wasn't wrong. He and Bernd had been forced to sort themselves out, both wanting a permanent place with the team too much to jeopardise it, so it wasn't a surprise that they'd come to a quick, unspoken agreement that they needed to try harder to put the toxic part of their rivalry aside. What _was_ a surprise was how easy it actually was to do that when they weren't deliberately trying to hurt each other. It wasn't perfect, but it was good, and was probably on the way to being _great_ after the Confed Cup, but now... Well, now they were probably never going to find out just how much better they could be. And it was all his fault.

"I thought so," Manuel nods. "But people will see what they want to see and you two have never been good about showing that you were actually getting along. I mean, I guess it's easy for me to say because we train together, but not even Andi has that insight, yeah? So when they see the two of you arguing..."

"We weren't arguing!" Marc protests, because they _weren't_.

"Well it looked like it. Like I said, no-one knows what your relationship was really like, so it's not really a surprise that they think you're happy that Bernd was the one who didn't make it, is it?"

Marc shakes his head again. Manuel was right; Marc knows how it looked now, especially after the talk with Marco. No-one really knew that this was just how he and Bernd processed being together again after a few months of being apart. No-one knew that they just needed a few days to figure out how to make their jagged edges fit together again, that after their first exchange of barbed words (that didn't mean anything!), everything would settle down and they would be good again. But now. Well, they'd lost that chance now. He runs a hand through his hair, frustration battling with resignation. "It's too late. There's nothing I can do now, no matter how much I want to change things."

Manuel pats his shoulder again in sympathy. "I'm sorry, I really am. For what it's worth, I think you and Bernd were doing fine. And I don't even blame you for wanting to keep it all on the down-low; no need for a running commentary from everyone when it's none of their business. But if I can give you some unsolicited advice? Next time - because there _will_ be a next time - think about being a little more obvious, okay? About not actually hating each other. That way people don't get the wrong impression."

All Marc can do is nod in agreement.

Manuel nods as well, then grimaces. "Okay that's enough captain-pep talk," he laughs lightly. "God, I'm never good at this personal, off-field stuff."

"You seem to be doing fine," Marc says, one eyebrow raised.

"Kinda don't have a choice," Manuel shrugs. "It comes with the armband. But it's not like I know what I'm doing half the time."

"For what it's worth, I think you're doing good, even with being injured for so long. Everyone is happy you're back."

"Even you?"

It's Marc's turn to grimace. "I'm not a _complete_ asshole, of course I'm happy you're back. But you gotta understand I can't be 100% happy about being benched again after last year."

"I get it, I do. And I'm glad you're not making it personal."

Marc barks out a short laugh. "Yeah, I learnt not to make it personal the hard way."

Manuel expression turns sympathetic and understanding again and Marc has to cut that off before the conversation can turn back to the  _who_ behind Marc's hard-earned lesson.

"Thanks," he says quickly. "For um, the chat. And for not judging us."

Manuel is an intelligent man and can sense a dismissal when he hears one, so turns to get the last of the gear so they can make it back inside for their free time.

Marc, after talking himself into it, finds Mats and apologises properly, thankful that his friend is still his friend and they agree to never speak about that night ever again. Later, he goes to look for Marco, has an honest conversation about his feelings, and all the developments Marco missed while being away from the national team. It's nice, and a relief, to be able to talk so openly with someone who he knows won't judge him - or Bernd - over their youthful mistakes. Marc knows that they have to do better, and when Marco extracts a promise from him to not ignore Bernd completely while they're in Russia, he only hesitates for a moment before he agrees. He doesn't quite know how he's going to reach out after this, or even if Bernd is going to be receptive to anything he says, but Marc is willing to try. Because dammit, he misses Bernd something stupid already, and it's only been a week. It really is true; you don't know what you've got until it's gone. This time, Marc has no-one to blame but himself, but next time. Well, if there is a next time, Marc isn't going to take it for granted again.

**Author's Note:**

> [A bit of a rushed fic so apologies for any errors or inconsistencies.]
> 
> Well that was one hell of an angsty fic 0_0
> 
> Okay, now for some football realist discourse...
> 
> So now that the team has been announced and I've had a night to rant about it... eh, I'm over it. There was already speculation months back that if Trapp was chosen over Leno, it would probably be because of Leno's somewhat antagonistic relationship with ter Stegen in the past. In light of the Neuer situation, it's not too much of a stretch to think that (if Leno and ter Stegen weren't getting along) the management would feel inclined to do _something_ to keep ter Stegen happy. Bearing in mind that this is all pure speculation, but if this were the case, then it makes sense. For all I was spitting mad about the decision, the team always comes before the individuals, even if hard choices have to be made. Germany are in that luxury position that for arguably all the positions (except RB and maybe LB), the competition for that one spot goes 2, 3, and in the some cases, even 4 deep; management don't _have to_ bring anyone, they get to _choose_ who fits the style of play and the team dynamics best. Having said that, I'm still bummed he's not going especially after spending what feels like 2 whole seasons defending his call-up to the national team (and yes, I still do believe Leno is a very talented goalkeeper who happens to fit the style of play of the NT very well, which is evidenced by the fact that he and ter Stegen have been #1  & 2 choice GK since they were 16). 
> 
> And now it seems Leno _will_ actually leave Leverkusen to go to Napoli (which I am happy about because he needs to go to another club to develop further), and shipper!me wants to go to google maps and check the distance between Naples and Barcelona. Okay so ignore me XD
> 
>  
> 
> _O well, time to move on and enjoy the start of the tournament... after final exams, anyways :(_
> 
>    
> I have a [tumblr account ](https://khalehla.tumblr.com) for my writings and random ficlets. If you have a question about this or any of my other stories, come say hi :)
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I write **fiction** about real people. As far as I know, none of these events ever happened; any resemblance to any actual events are purely coincidental.


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